Rubber Duck Umbrella
by Jenny Max
Summary: University AU. Romano was only interested in dating a girl, preferably a pretty one with a really nice body. He wasn't interested in Antonio, who seemed to make it his goal in life to get together with Romano. Spamano.
1. Chapter 1

**I should be getting to sleep because I have a flight to catch tomorrow morning, but instead I'll upload this and stay up even later.**

**This is a bribe-turned-gift for the ever fabulous maestbro. You should check out her stuff because she's awesome. C:**

* * *

><p>Romano was irritated. He normally always was, but at ten minutes before eight in the morning, after going to bed too late and waking up too early thanks to his roommate, he was especially irritated. His fingers threatened to squash his coffee cup as he marched loudly up the four flight of stairs to his art history lecture classroom. Of course, the door was closed and locked, since he arrived early by twenty minutes and the professor had yet to show up. There were several fellow classmates waiting in the hallway, sitting against walls and reading through notes (or sleeping), but anyone with common sense wouldn't be showing up for another fifteen minutes. Why Romano showed up so Goddamned early was beyond him.<p>

Following the other students' examples, he dropped his backpack onto the ground and slid to the floor, slumping against the wall. He was bundled in two layers of hooded jackets and a beanie, and his fingers were still defrosting around his coffee. It was cold outside, but it wasn't cold enough yet to break out the heavy winter jackets. However, the mornings were still so damned cold that three layers of clothes weren't necessarily enough to keep him warm on his trek across campus. He should probably at least invest in some proper gloves that actually had fingers.

As he sipped some coffee to warm his frozen innards, loud, boisterous laughter radiating from the staircase made him choke and sputter the hot drink. His mouth now successfully scorched, he wiped dribbles of coffee from the edge of his lips and sent a fiery glare at the staircases.

_Oh wonderful_, he thought bitterly. The Three Stooges, all a couple years older than himself, marched into the hallway, too sinfully awake this early in the morning – Gilbert Beilschmidt, dressed way too lightly for the almost-frozen weather, Francis Bonnefoy, looking "fabulous" in his expensive designer jacket and (women's) fur boots, and Antonio Carriedo...

He had nothing to say about that asshole.

The three of them lowered their voices to return to whatever they were whispering about, only to break out into another round of obnoxious laughter. Romano nearly had the heart to toss his coffee at them, but he was still in the defrosting stage and preferred to put his warm drink to better use. At least, drinking it seemed like the better option until Gilbert noticed his huddled figure and pointed at him with a big stupid smile.

"Hey, Tony, look! It's your _boyfriend_."

Romano's nostrils flared and his face turned a bright red. Some of the other lounging men and women turned their attention to him and he thought he was going to explode. It didn't help that Antonio gave him a toothy grin and waved.

In a huff, Romano pushed himself to his feet and, on impulse, chucked his barely touched coffee at the trio. He meant to aim for Antonio's stupid face to get him to stop smiling like a stupidhead, but his aim was off by a little bit and nailed Gilbert's chest instead. The albino was still from shock for about a second before he started freaking, pulling at his shirt to try to shake off as much of hot beverage as he could. "_Jesus Christ, son of a bitch!_ Did you see what that crazy jackass did? God _damn_, this shit is _hot_!"

Oh well, the result was just as satisfying.

It was at that point that the professor finally made her appearance, pausing to look up and down at Gilbert before shaking her head and clicking her tongue. "Mr. Beilschmidt, please learn to drink like a big boy, I don't know if I have any sippy cups to spare."

Gilbert gawped and sputtered as the professor unlocked and propped the door open. Romano shouldered his bag and followed her in. He couldn't help the satisfied smirk as Gilbert finally blurted out, "That kid ruined my good shirt! He ruined my _favorite_ shirt! And I _can_ drink like a big boy!"

* * *

><p>After the ninety minutes of lecture was done, Romano bolted out of the room before he could be caught by the Dumbasses Three. Throughout the lecture, he spotted them peeking over their shoulders and throwing him looks. The two times he caught Gilbert, he narrowed his eyes and gave him the best glare he could. For Francis, he flipped off the stupid perverted douchebag discreetly, not at all liking the raised eyebrows and winks he'd been receiving. As for stupid Antonio, he tried his best to not even acknowledge his presence and keep his attention towards the slide images of Byzantine art. He had a feeling that had he paid attention to him, he'd notice that the brunet had probably been staring at him for a chunk of the lecture.<p>

The morning chill hadn't at all really gone away, and he regretted his fingerless gloves once more as he struggled with the lock of his bike. Since he parked it at the bike rack two hours previous, inconsiderate assholes shoved their bikes right up against his to the point where it was near impossible to get it out. As he fumbled with the key and lock, he failed to notice Antonio approaching him from behind. The Spaniard waved off his two friends, mentioning he'd meet up with them later in the day (Gilbert was still sorely pissed off for his ruined shirt and had to run off to change).

Just as Romano finally unlocked the stubborn U-lock, Antonio decided it was the opportune time to say, "Hey, Romano."

Or more like yell it and scare the living daylights out of him. Romano jumped with a squeal and the lock and key fell onto the concrete sidewalk with a clatter. He turned to face Antonio and snarled. "What the fuck do you want?"

"I, um..." Antonio bit his lower lip as Romano reached between the bikes to grab his lock and key. "I wanted to ask you about last weekend–"

Romano suddenly bolted up straight and tensed. "What about last weekend? There's nothing about last weekend to talk about, how about you do me a favor and _fuck off_." He turned away and preoccupied himself by throwing the lock and key into his bag before beginning the struggle of freeing his bike from the sea of handlebars.

"Well, about last weekend–" _omigod can't this guy take a hint?_ "–I know that we were a little bit drunk–" _more like wasted_, "–and perhaps some of the things we might have done were a little uncalled for, and..."

Flashbacks to the Saturday night party weren't particularly wanted, but Romano couldn't help the flashes of memories that decided to pop in his head. Most of them centered around the several tequilas he'd helped himself to and this bastard bothering him. The holding, the hugging, the kissing...the _intense_ kissing...

With a huff, Romano struggled with his bike more harshly. He didn't even know why his drunken brain had decided to be attracted to _him_ when there were so many pretty, scantily clothed sorority girls in that party. He specifically remembered a particular blonde he'd had his eyes on and chased her around the fraternity house for a while, but after that was a blur, the fog clearing only enough for _Antonio's _Goddamned face to make itself shown. It didn't matter how much of a good kisser he was. He was annoying, stupid, and a freaking _guy_. He did _not_ want to be marked off as a gay dude to the female population on campus. That was the last thing he wanted.

"...Hey, do you need help that?"

"I'm fine, you bastard!" Romano kicked aside one of the bikes, and with one more pull, his bike was freed. He let out a triumphant laugh. "See, I was fine."

"...Uh huh." Antonio nodded, and cleared his throat. "So, um, yea, I was thinking maybe we could, uh, get together sometime?"

Romano turned to Antonio with a displeased look. It was too cold and too early for this shit. "What. No, fuck you, I'm not going anywhere near you. Just because we happen to be in the same art history class together and we did...stuff...does _not_ mean I have the least bit interest in your ugly face."

No, it wasn't really ugly. It was kind of attractive, actually. But it wasn't. No. It was stupid. A stupid face. He wished his coffee really did explode in his face.

He jumped on his bike and was about to ride off, but Antonio threw himself in front of him and grasped tightly to the handlebars.

"Hey, come on, seriously, hear me out, please?"

"_No_!" Romano attempted to push him off, but in vain. "Get off, dammit, you're gonna make me late for my next class!"

"I mean, I know what we did that night probably has you thinking of me as a slut or something like that–"

"You're making it sound like we _actually_ fucked! Go away!"

"–But I'd really like to just sit down with you and, like, actually talk with you."

"I already said _no_, now go away or I'll run you over!"

"I owe you another coffee, don't I?"

Romano paused. "...What?"

"This morning, when you chucked your coffee at Bertie, it looked like you barely drank it at all, so I owe you a coffee. We can get together sometime and I can make it up to you and buy you a coffee?"

Antonio's hopeful smile, while charming, was kind of sickening. With his nose wrinkled, Romano stared at him as he went over the argument in his head. On the one hand, he never wanted to do anything with this bastard again. He was annoying and obviously the clingy type – and there he goes actually _thinking like_ they had a chance to be "together" like that! No, he's a man with a penis and they did stuff he never wanted to even think about again and he's not at all interested in socializing with him whatsoever.

But on the other hand, his offer to buy him a coffee was tempting, and perhaps if he played his cards right he could get a free meal out of him? Since starting university this year he had grown very frugal, and this sounded like good opportunity for free stuff.

Besides, in the back of mind, at the very _very_ back in some dusty lonely corner, a little voice was telling him to give this guy a shot. Even if he were irritating and obnoxious and so..._sunshiney_, there was the potential of at least being buddies with him, if not more.

For now, that little voice was ignored. He wanted his free coffee.

"Meet me in front of the Food For Thought at eleven thirty. If you're late I'll kick your teeth in."

Antonio broke into what had to be the biggest, most excited and gleeful and _triumphant_ smile on the face of the earth. "Really! Th-That's wonderful! That's great! I'll see you there, I-I'll get you anything you want, I'll buy you lunch too!"

"That's great, Douchebag, now kindly _get the fuck off _so I can actually get to my next class!"

"Yes, yes, sorry, go ahead. I'll meet you at eleven thirty."

With a _pfuh_, Romano was finally able to bike away, top speed to lose that dumb idiot before he decided to bribe anything else out of him. Despite the aggravation at the pit of his stomach, strangely enough he felt pleased to have accepted his offer. Of course it was just because of the free meal. His lunch would be something more filling and healthier than the cheap greasy stuff he'd been getting his hands on lately, and a sub sandwich sounded much more appetizing than another meal of Chinese take out.

But it was just because of the free meal. He wasn't looking forward to seeing Antonio at all.


	2. Chapter 2

As Romano hoped (and honestly didn't expect), Antonio was waiting outside of Food For Thought when he arrived fifteen minutes after their planned meeting time. Romano wasn't sure why he showed up late; after he finished his last class, he had plenty of time to spare and could've shown up earlier. Perhaps it was to see if Antonio would leave if he wasn't there at eleven thirty on the dot, or if he'd be angry or annoyed or relatively upset at all. Maybe that whole playful, joyful, passive act was just that, an _act_, and maybe he was actually a complete jackass who pretended to be nice just to get what he wanted. Romano had had his share in jerkfaces like that, so what was one more?

But, alas, Antonio wasn't a two faced creeper. As soon as the dark skinned bastard saw Romano approaching the crosswalk, he broke into a huge, shiny smile and waved enthusiastically. He didn't even look worried or irritated before he saw him. He was just leaning against the bike rack, his phone flipped open, texting who-knew obsessively with his usual spaced out grin.

"Hey, Romano," the brown haired freak greeted, "I thought you wouldn't make it! I was about to try texting you to see where you went off."

"Bah, I just had shit to do and it – wait, how the fuck did you get my number?"

Antonio's smile slipped and his eyebrows furrowed. "We exchanged them back at the party, remember?"

No, he did not remember at all. How had he been able to even handle a phone properly enough to enter a new contact if he couldn't recall such an exchange happening? Yep, he had been definitely wasted if he agreed to give his number away to this bozo. He kept a mental note to ask Grampa later if he could possibly change his number.

With a growl, he waved Antonio aside and dragged his bike over to the bike racks. This time, he locked it at the end of the rack to ensure that he could actually pull it out without having to battle with the other bikes. "What the fuck ever. Let's just get lunch, I'm starving."

Antonio was a nice enough guy to hold the door open for him, but he didn't thank him for it, or even acknowledge it. The small restaurant was super crowded with the lunch rush, and as they waited in the ever-long line, Romano did not approve of being constantly shoved into his unwanted companion. It took several minutes until they reached the counter, and by then he was about ready to break Antonio's fingers for grabbing his sleeve every two seconds.

"Good morning!" Antonio greeted the cashier. The man behind the counter didn't share his enthusiasm and instead scowled with a halfassed _Good morning _in return. Romano couldn't help but stare at the cashier's impossibly thick eyebrows. "I'll just have some coffee and a BLT, please." Antonio looked over at Romano, who took it as his cue to give his order.

Well, he did say that he could order whatever he wanted, so he might as well take advantage of that. "I'll have a twelve inch Italian sub with bacon, sprouts, extra tomatoes, provolone cheese, mayo, and olive oil. I'll also have a chai tea with vanilla and two percent milk, a bowl of minestrone, a Caesar salad with blue cheese, a bottle of orange soda and a dirt pudding."

Romano was unfazed by the odd look the cashier gave him. Romano didn't look like the kind of person to eat so much, but he wasn't planning to anyway. Half of the sandwich, the soup, soda, and pudding he was planning on saving for dinner, and Antonio did say that he was going to pay for it all, anyway.

"...Well then." The register made ringing noises as the cashier entered their order. "Will that be everything?"

Romano considered on ordering a second sandwich to save for breakfast tomorrow morning, but Antonio must have sensed it, for he pulled out his wallet and answered immediately, "Yea, that'll be all."

As Antonio fished through his wallet for money, the cashier pulled out a bottle of orange soda and a small packaged container of pudding from a small refrigeration unit, placing it on the counter along with a plastic card with a number. "The rest of your order will be brought to you, go ahead and take a seat."

Romano chose a table off to the corner, mostly avoiding the mass of people by the entrance and counters. As he sat down and packed his drink and nighttime dessert into his bag, he ignored Antonio's attempt to start up any sort of small talk. He preoccupied himself with his phone, scrolling through the several text messages his little brother spammed into his inbox, mostly whines of how boring his classes were. He huffed and shook his head at the last message he'd received only ten minutes previous, the text going off about how he couldn't wait to leave high school and join his amazing big brother in university. In all honesty, it was rather cute, but very annoying at the same time. He thought he felt his eye twitch when his little brother's "best friend" was mentioned in that same text.

"...And so, that was how I decided to transfer here last semester. My last university wasn't really giving me what I want, and I was rather fond of the biology department after I did some research." Romano tuned into the last of whatever uninteresting story Antonio had been going off about for the last couple minutes. He could've sworn that before he distracted himself, the older classmate was saying something about dying carnations some bizarre color or some junk like that.

"Yea, that's nice," he replied with a wave of his hand. The edge of his mouth quirked when his phone vibrated on the table, the screen lighting up to announce that his brother had, yet again, sent him another pointless message. Ten bucks told him it was about whatever the high school had for lunch.

"Who's that?" Antonio asked as Romano flipped open his phone. He sighed, both at Antonio's nosiness and the fact that, yes, little Feliciano was going off about how it was tater tot day and he was so _stoked_ to leave for lunch already. He honestly didn't care. He had half the mind to shut off his phone, but decided to leave it on just in case.

"It's just my brother. He's being a nuisance, as usual."

Antonio's eyes raised in interest as Romano threw his phone in his bag. "Oh, a brother? What does he do? Does he go here? What does he major in?"

"No, he's still in high school." He rubbed his temple and willed their order to come faster. He had no interest in talking about his sibling, and his stomach was really starting to protest his decision to skip breakfast this morning. However, for whatever reason, Romano continued with the topic. "If he were in college, though, he'd be an art major. Almost every time I talk to him, he goes off about how he wants to get a degree in teaching art."

"Oh, really? That's nice! He must like working with children."

Romano snorted. "He wouldn't make a good teacher whatsoever. He's the biggest pushover I've ever met. He might be okay in elementary school, but he'd be eaten alive in high school. He lacks the ability to discipline properly, which is probably why our cat is such a menace."

"Well, Romano, you'd never know. He could make a fine instructor someday."

"Pfeh, whatever."

The both of them grew silent, with Romano brooding over the topic of his brother and Antonio just..._staring_ with that annoying as fuck smile on his dark face.

Finally, Antonio spoke up, "So, what are you majoring in? I'm assuming art since you're in an art history course?"

"Oh, fuck no." Romano shook his head and rested his chin on his hand. He put on a look of disgust, though it didn't look much different from the usual scowl he normally wore. "The art history class is just to fill in a gen ed. I'm just undecided right now. My art's too fuck awful to get me anywhere if I majored in art." Half true; he'd been told that his ceramic works were pretty good, but he was easily outshined by his brother's paintings.

"Oh, come now, I'm sure your art isn't that bad. You're just being too hard on yourself."

"Like you'd know that, jackass."

Antonio must be used to the name calling, for Romano noticed that he never winced nor show outward disapproval at his cursing.

"Well, if you were to major in something, what would you choose? What are you interested in?"

Romano took a moment to think. This was the same question he told himself often, for he knew that staying undecided for more than a year would be costly and regretful. Unfortunately, he never was able to decide what exactly he wanted to do for the rest of his life. Those online career tests were barely any help, and neither was his adviser. Talking to Antonio about that issue would do no good, but he might as well entertain him, anyway.

"Well, I like cooking."

"Then maybe you can try majoring in culinary arts. Do you like doing it a lot?"

Yep, it was just like talking to his adviser. "I do, but not enough to make me want to get into it after I graduate. Besides, that would mean I'd have to transfer over to the tech school and I don't want to get into that shit. Plus my last three jobs I worked in a kitchen and I was fired all three times." The most recent one was two months ago in a sandwich shop, scolding some regular customer for not cleaning up after herself. It wasn't like he needed the job, anyway, he could deal with eating instant ramen and cheap fast food all the time.

"Oh, okay." Antonio paused for a moment before inquiring further. "Well, in art history, you seem to be quite involved with the lectures, and when I looked up the scores for the last test a couple weeks ago, you had one of the top grades in the class, and that wasn't an easy test."

Romano shrugged a shoulder and slumped in his chair, crossing his arms. "Yea, so? I just studied a fuck ton."

"So, maybe you can try getting into that? Do you like art history?"

It was beyond him why he was talking to this bastard. He originally was expecting lunch to be an in and out thing, with little conversation and lots of food to last him the rest of the day. Instead, he was waiting forever for his lunch, the restaurant was growing ever more crowded, and Antonio was playing career counselor. It actually wasn't so bad, except for the part where his stomach is about ready to eat his liver.

"Yea, but what could I do with that? Unlike my sweet younger brother, I don't have the desire to teach in some classroom."

Antonio avoided the question with another. "What do you like about art history? I kind of like northern art, up where the Germanic states and the British isles and Scandanavia are, during the Renaissance period."

Renaissance? They didn't cover the Renaissance in their class, and if he remembered correctly, they'd only go as far as Gothic art this semester. Did he take the second half of the course previously? "Well, I like architecture and sculpture, especially around the ancient Greek and Roman periods – before, during, and after. I find it interesting with how the styles evolved and changed, how the culture and politics worked alongside them, and the ways the Romans used the old Greek styles in building their own empire."

He tried to come across as disapproving for talking about his interests so openly, but rather enjoyed the chance to talk about himself to someone who actually wanted to listen. He didn't want to believe it, but Antonio was starting to grow on him. Especially with how he smiled eagerly during the topic, despite how boring it should seem to other people.

"You sound like you really like it. Perhaps you could try getting into being an art historian, especially with your interest in the subject in general."

Romano let out a sarcastic laugh. Was this idiot serious? As much as he did like the subject, logically he couldn't go anywhere with a Bachelor's in Art History, except for maybe working in a museum, but being a curator took years of experience, work, and luck.

"You're serious, right? And what could I do exactly if I were an art historian? Drop myself in the middle of Rome, or maybe Greece, and look at all the stuff that every other historian had documented several thousand times before? Or maybe I could go to the Chauvet cave in France and look at all the paleolithic rock paintings of horses and cows."

"...There's always getting into archeology and discovering new stuff to study."

"Fuck that. There's more practical stuff to get into. Maybe I'll just get a business degree or some shit like that and work in a corporate building."

He looked away and ignored the look of disappointment that flashed through Antonio's face. Of course Romano would get frustrated at the subject of his future, and his complete indecision on even picking out some sort of major to roll with.

Actually, if he thought about it, maybe he could try picking up art history as his major, even if he can't do anything with it. At least he'd head in some sort of direction instead of taking all sorts of pointless classes that would just waste him money. Then again, getting into the art field could be a useless money sucker too. There wasn't much he could do with the degree.

Fortunately, before Romano could sink himself into an ever further frustrated state, a waitress came to their table with their lunch. She was a pretty blonde, her short hair held back with a green headband. She took a look at the number on plastic card left on the table to confirm she had the right order and started placing plates in front of the both of them.

Romano discovered that he recognized her from the party over the weekend, and his mouth quirked into a smile.

"Here you go, sweethearts," the waitress said, "sorry for the delay, we're a lot busier than usual and we're a bit behind in the kitchens." She looked over at Antonio, who waved his hands nonchalantly. Romano had a feeling that the two knew each other.

"It's okay, I understand how chaotic kitchens can get, just don't hurt yourself back there, okay?"

The girl let out a laugh and tucked her tray under her arm after she finished giving them their lunches. "I'll make sure of that, Tony. I'll be back in a bit if you need anything." At that, she scurried away to tend to another table.

Antonio immediately started digging into his sandwich, evidence that he too was just as hungry as Romano was. Despite the mini smorgasbord laid in front of him, Romano kept his eyes on the waitress.

"You know her?" he asked stupidly, finally tearing his eyes from her nice looking ass to focus on cutting his sandwich in half. Antonio took a sip from his coffee and nodded.

"Yea. We went to school together. We used to be close friends growing up."

"What's her name?"

"Belle."

"Oh, that's a pretty name."

Antonio grew silent as Romano looked around to see if he could find her again. Yep, this was definitely the girl he tried to talk to back at the party. She didn't seem to show that she recognized him, but then again he was probably just another face in the crowd, since they didn't actually make any sort of contact. But that didn't matter, he was determined to ask her out, or at least let her know that he existed.

After they finished their lunch, Romano was able to track her down outside taking a short break. He didn't notice how Antonio looked upset as the pretty blonde smiled and accepted his invitation for a date the following Friday.


	3. Chapter 3

**First week of university is over, and classes are in full swing. Here's to hoping I get the rest of this story done in a timely fashion. Fun fact: I originally only wanted this to be three chapters long, but now it's going to be, like, five or six.**

* * *

><p>Romano never really did like rain. It was melodramatic, overrated, and very wet. It was something he liked to avoid at all costs, since it put him in a bad mood, left him feeling foggy headed, and made his hair curl and frizz like a Portuguese water dog.<p>

Tonight, however, he found that he didn't give a damn that he was caught in a torrential downpour in the middle of the night. If there was one thing Romano was good at, it was wallowing in his misery. His hood did nothing to keep him even remotely dry, his cheap shoes squelched with every step he took, and he shivered from the cold. The melodramatic, overrated, and very wet weather suited him very well at the moment, and in all honesty, he wasn't particularly interested in walking any faster, even if he was going to get one hell of a cold the next day.

Besides, the cold relentless rain made a good distraction from his strange, unwanted desire to contact Antonio.

All week, he'd been avoiding that smiley faced dumbfuck. Since he asked out Belle back on Monday, he wanted nothing to do with Antonio, so he ignored his text messages, changed his routes to and from the campus and between classes, and, most importantly, snuck into their art history lecture like a ninja and hid in the back of the room.

There was one time when he almost bumped into him; it was back on Thursday when he decided to flirt with Belle at the Food For Thought. While he was waiting outside for her to take her lunch break, Antonio showed up out of the blue and paused at the front entrance. He'd stayed there for maybe two minutes, looking around for someone while Romano hid in the bushes like some creeper (and by the odd looks he received, some people probably thought he was one, too). Antonio didn't look too perky like he usually did; in fact his brows were knitted into worry lines and he seemed almost antsy. Romano had a feeling that he was looking for him.

Even now, as he stepped into an ankle-deep puddle while cutting across a small parking lot, Romano wished he at least said hi to Antonio that morning. It probably would've made their little (nonexistent) relationship more awkward at that moment, but it would've made tonight a little bit easier. Romano probably wouldn't be so hesitant to send Antonio a message asking if he could magically teleport and get him out of the rain. If his phone even worked any more. At this point, it was probably as waterlogged as he was.

Saying that Romano didn't know what went wrong tonight would be a complete lie. He knew what he did wrong. He blamed Antonio for jinxing him. His entire existence fucked up his night and left him stranded downtown, far from his dorm, in the middle of a rainstorm.

The night had started well enough. He and Belle met at a nice Asian restaurant for dinner not too far from the campus. There, he learned that she was somewhat of the demanding, pushy type, but that was expected from a woman who was the head waitress in her work. She was otherwise a wonderful conversationalist, and they spent over an hour at their table talking about...well, nothing, really. It was pleasant and very relaxing.

However, after the first half hour, he couldn't help but catch the vibe that Belle wasn't exactly interested in their date. He dated enough girls to catch the subtle hints; she laid back in her seat instead of leaning against the table in full interest in their conversation. Her tone was low and easy, almost standoffish, instead of enthusiastic and higher pitched. She was flattered by his flirting, but more in the sense of jesting instead of acknowledging the fact that he was hitting on her. They might as well be a pair of colleagues enjoying an end-of-the-week friendly dinner.

Romano ignored that. He took it as her personality, since she wasn't a half-dazed ditzy little girl. She was about two years older than him, taller as well (but only by a little bit, Romano was in no way a midget), and while cheerful and bright almost like Antonio (_there goes his brain again thinking about that dumb bastard_), she was also very mature. Maybe if they went somewhere else, like, say, a dance club, she'd loosen up and their date would really be a date.

That, there, was where he made his mistake.

She agreed to join him in hitting one of the clubs downtown. They took a bus to one that Belle said Romano could go to without getting in trouble for not being old enough to drink. He wasn't surprised that she had a good taste in clubs. The one she chose was _nice_.

Somehow, later in the night, he got his hands on a margarita, and the fact that he continued to catch that uninterested vibe from Belle increased the antsy dance in his stomach. However, she was a really nice dancer.

He'd only turned away for a moment to try to get another margarita. He didn't expect, but should have expected, that someone was going to grab her attention while his back was turned. When he peeked over his shoulder, she was talking to another man, a spiky haired cocky looking bloke with a dumb looking scar on his forehead. In the flashing lights and gyrating crowd, he failed to catch their facial similarities. He also failed to acknowledge that this dude talking to his date was taller, bulkier, and intimidating-looking. The moment he threw his first punch, he knew the fight was going to be a short one, a mix between this guy easily overpowering him and the bouncers' magical sixth sense of distinguishing the wild, physical dancing from a legit fight.

The three of them found their asses thrown on the sidewalk. He discovered then that Belle really wasn't interested in him, and at the same time he learned that she could be quite vicious when angry.

"_I can't believe you, Romano! I thought were a nice decent kid, but you're such an ass! Didn't you catch that I wasn't interested in actually dating you? How about you actually use your little pea brain for a change? This guy is my _brother!_ You are an immature little brat!" _

Hey, it wasn't all his fault. She should have known that if another guy were talking to her during their little make believe date, he'd get defensive, even if the other guy happened to be her brother.

She then stomped away, her brother shooting Romano a glare straight from hell before following suit. In the streetlamp, he finally realized that the two shared the same eyes – color, shape, even how the edges wrinkled when the lids were narrowed. Well, fuck that hard.

It'd been barely a block's walk when God decided to mess with him more and drop buckets of rain on his head. The last bus to the university made its last round almost an hour ago, and it was a couple miles' walk to his off-campus dorm.

That was how he found himself walking alone and shivering back towards the campus, his brain mulling over what went wrong, what he could've done to not end with his ass on the curb, and freaking _Antonio_.

Romano was too far off into space to catch the rhythmic splashing of someone running up behind him, and his reaction was slow when, out of nowhere, the rain suddenly stopped. He froze. He could still hear the hard pattering of rain on the sidewalk, but it joined in sync with a steady drumming from above. Dazed, he looked up.

Baby blue. In the dim glow of the street lamps, neon signs, and car headlights, he saw baby blue. He also saw little yellow birds. Rubber ducks, he realized. He was looking up at a baby blue umbrella dotted with a rubber duck pattern. How incredibly childish.

His frozen body jolted to life and spun around, his brown eyes meeting familiar olive ones.

Antonio.

Antonio's face broke into a smile. "You look like you need this." He had to raise his voice above the pouring rain, but it was still light, affectionate, almost sympathetic.

Romano gawped. What was this, some crappy romantic chick flick? He had a terrible night filled with failing to impress his date, getting slugged in the face by her older brother, and getting kicked out of a dance club. He was caught miserable and alone in a downpour, and, right at the depressing climax, his savior magically appeared with a rubber duck umbrella to the rescue.

What was this shit.

He stepped away – out from under the ridiculous umbrella and back into the rain – with a scowl. Antonio was standing too close. He could feel his body heat, and their noses almost touched. His body shuddered for a reason other than the cold rain, one that brushed his cheeks a little bit red. Could this guy at all understand the concept of personal space?

"What the– What the hell are you doing here, Antonio? I thought I was avoiding you!"

Antonio frowned, looking up at the umbrella then back at Romano. "You don't want to stay under here? You're all wet."

"What difference does it make? I'm already all wet, standing under your stupid umbrella won't make that any better!"

"But...it's better to stay under here than stay in the rain."

"Why, so that you can get all creeper all over me? No, go away!" Romano's yelling raised an octave and cracked, breaking the harsh, pissed off facade he was trying to portray.

Antonio's frown increased, but he didn't move. His eyebrows dipped down into...concern? Pity? Actually, it looked more like _hurt_. Finally, something Romano said actually hurt him, and Romano didn't like it. He might as well had kicked a puppy.

There was a pause, then Antonio made the barest of flinches, as if he were about to turn around and leave, just as Romano demanded. He adjusted the overstuffed messenger bag over his shoulder and nodded.

"Okay, Romano, if you say so–"

"For the love of Christ, Antonio, shut the fuck up! I'm the one who's suppose to be all upset and depressed, not you!" With a growl, Romano stepped back under the umbrella, their chests almost touching. He pocketed his hands and gave Antonio a half glare. "There, happy? I'm out of the stupid rain and under your stupid umbrella."

It was a moment before Antonio reacted. His frown, as he expected, was gone, replaced with a tentative smile. "There, isn't that better?"

"Whatever."

The two stood still, neither knowing what to do next. Antonio looked like he wanted to get moving, but didn't know where to go. Romano just glared at Antonio's chin. Finally, Romano spoke up.

"What're you doing out here? It's a bit late for your smiling ass to be out here."

Antonio's response was, "Your date didn't go well, did it?"

"No fucking really! I actually had a blast, I was just dancing through the Goddamned rain in celebration for getting knocked across the head and getting yelled at for being an impulsive bitch."

"...I can see that." Romano flinched when a gentle finger touched the blooming bruise on his cheek. The hand was immediately swatted away. "You need to get back to the dorms, don't you? I can walk you back, I'm heading that way anyway to go home."

"Whatever, do what you want."

This time, Antonio smiled brightly and gently gave Romano's arm a nudge to encourage him to move.

They walked in silence for a good ten minutes, their pace slow mostly because of Romano. He was shaking violently, shivering from the cold and rain, and his gait was stiff. Antonio was patient, not minding the drops of rain falling on his head of thick hair if only to keep Romano out from the rain as much as possible. He wanted to wrap his arm around the smaller man, to give him some sort of comfort, but he kept to himself.

While waiting at a crosswalk, Romano spoke up. "You didn't answer my question. What were you doing out there? I thought you'd be back at your place, if not partying at some other fraternity house."

"I was doing a research project with my lab partner for fishy bio." Antonio adjusted the heavy bag on his shoulder to emphasize.

Fishy bio? He didn't find Antonio to be the marine biology type of person. "On a Friday night?"

"Tonight's the only night he was free. He's a nontraditional student; he's got kind of a family thing going on."

"Oh, really?"

"Yea. Nice partner, sweet kid. He's from Sweden or something, he's got a heavy accent and is hard to understand. Kind of a...violent chef, too."

Romano gave him an odd look. "Violent? Should I fear for your life?"

"Well, I guess violent isn't necessarily the right word. He's just hard core. I wasn't sure if he was just making a show for his boy or he really mixes up ground beef by punching it with his fists."

"...Delicious."

"They were, actually! I've never had such tasty Swedish meatballs before. And I don't mean it in the perverted sense."

"...Thanks for that."

"He also eats straight up mayonnaise out of the jar."

"That's absolutely disgusting, why did you tell me that."

Antonio's laugh was different from Belle's. His was deeper, gentler, and unlike Belle's, held a hint of genuine interest in what Romano had to say. After the disaster tonight, Romano noted that the past couple times he and Antonio were together, all of Antonio's attention was on him, and him alone. It was this same attention that made Romano thoughtlessly talk instead of yelling at him to fuck off every time he opened his mouth like he usually would with any other person. He almost had half a mind to blurt out his thrilling Friday Night Fail Tale, but his throbbing headache and chattering teeth kept his tongue in his mouth.

He was content enough to just hear Antonio's mindless babbling, anyway.

By the time they reached the front steps of a rather spacey looking house, they were shoulder to shoulder, and Antonio's hand was just above the small of his back. Romano recognized that they were in the university housing district just outside of campus. Just a couple blocks' walk and he'd get to his dorm.

He was led up the steps and stood on the cheesy welcome mat as the door opened and Antonio stepped inside. Romano could hear the unmistakable sounds of some first person shooter game from deeper within the house.

"Well, are you going to come in?"

Romano snapped out of his daze and blinked his eyes into focus. A look of worry was on Antonio's face, who was still holding the umbrella over Romano's soaked head. The auburn haired student shook his head stiffly.

"I'm just going back, dorm's not too far from here."

"You sure? Some of the guys are out tonight, we have more than enough room for one guest to spend the night."

"I-It's fine really. I'll just go."

Antonio shook his head and pulled him in. "Please, Romano. At least come inside for a bit, I can make some hot cocoa to warm you up."

It sounded so tempting, but Romano was adamant to get home tonight. He wanted to curl up in his own bed with his comfy blankets, and he wasn't in the mood to be woken up in the wee hours of the morning by boisterous drunk young men returning home from their partying. He didn't want to woken by any early risers, either. His creepy as fuck roommate was gone for the weekend to attend some Russian mafia wedding or something or other, which meant he could sleep until four in the afternoon without disturbances. That was what he wanted right now, so he wasn't staying the night.

"No, I'm going home now, God dammit, can't I just do that?"

Antonio let out a sigh and nodded. "Okay, then, you can. But..." His eyes lit up and he started making his way into the house. "Stay here for a moment, I want to give you a couple things." Romano reluctantly agreed and waited in the small foyer.

From where he stood, Romano could see into the living room, where the video gaming noises were coming from. There was a man and a woman on a couch, their backs turned to him, and on the TV he saw they were playing some zombie apocalypse game. When the black-haired man turned to say something to his friend, he recognized him as the Japanese exchange student who liked to float around the art department.

"Felix?" Romano's attention perked when Antonio called from the other room. "What did you do with that bottle of Nyquil Eddie got the other day?"

To Romano's surprise, the blonde girl turned out to be a blond _boy_. "IDK, I didn't touch it, Tony!"

"Ed told me that you took it to your boyfriend's yesterday."

"Dammit, Tony, I just died! No, I said I didn't touch it, I got my own. Gilbert drank, like, half of it earlier, I wouldn't be surprised if he got the rest before he left."

Romano took a deep breath and settled against the open door frame, willing himself to block out the growing argument within the household. He closed his eyes and wrapped his soaking arms around himself in an attempt to warm up and stop shaking so much.

He didn't realize he'd started dozing when he was gently shaken. He opened his bleary eyes and scowled. "What?"

"Here." Antonio spoke quietly, which Romano silently thanked him for, for he didn't know how much more noise his aching head could take. It'd gotten even louder in the living room. He wondered if they turned up the volume of that stupid television.

His fingers twitched when they were taken by Antonio's (warm) hands and wrapped around a plastic bag. Curious, Romano look inside it. There was a bottle of Robitussin and a pint of unopened orange juice.

"I couldn't find the Nyquil, so Robitussin will have to do. Do you have like Advil at home or something?" Romano nodded. "Okay, you'll have to just take that tonight and wait off on the Robitussin until you wake up tomorrow."

Romano nodded again and rubbed his face, stifling a yawn. "Yea, yea, whatever. What's with the OJ?"

"It's good to drink orange juice when you're sick."

"And how do you know that I'll be sick tomorrow?"

"How long were you out in the rain until I found you?"

Romano went silent in thought. "...I don't know, a while?" He was feeling the effects already. Along with his killer headache, he thought he felt his sinuses start to act up, and not to forget how freezing cold he was even though it was warm inside the foyer.

"Trust me when I say orange juice is good for you. Drink some tomorrow when you wake up." Antonio took a moment to look hard at Romano before frowning with concern. "Are you okay you can make it home tonight? I mean, the guys will be fine with you staying the night."

"I already said, dumbshit, I'm not staying here." He wasn't going to stay over with all this loud noise, and he definitely wasn't going to stay in the same building as _Gilbert_.

"Can I walk you back at least?"

"I'm not five, I'll be _fine_." It was pride mostly that kept Romano from saying yes. He huffed and made to step outside into the rain, but Antonio grabbed his arm and stopped him. "What do you want _now_? What do I have to do to get back to my room, dammit!"

"Just...before you go." Antonio handed him the ridiculous rubber duck umbrella. "So you don't get yourself any wetter on your walk back."

Romano looked at the umbrella and shrugged. "Fine. It's the middle of the night anyway, it's not like anyone's gonna see."

Antonio's warm smile was almost intoxicating. "Good. Be safe on your walk back."

"I know, I know, don't talk to strangers, especially ones with candy. I get it. I'm a big boy now, I can take care of myself."

"Good, good. Um..."

"For Christ's sake, what now?"

"Can I check up on you tomorrow? Just to make sure you didn't...die or catch pneumonia or something."

At this point, Romano only cared about getting back to his dorm. He rolled his head back and groaned. "Yes, yes, fine, yes you can come in and make sure I'm not dead. I'm in Remus Hall room 317. Can I leave _now_?"

Antonio chuckled and rubbed his hand on Romano's shoulder. "Yes, you can leave now." There was a brief moment where Antonio hesitated, and despite his permission to leave, Romano didn't go. Slowly, Antonio leaned forward and pressed his lips on Romano's cheekbone, where the darkening bruise was. The smaller felt his face instantly heat up, and his motor functions must've coughed up and jammed because he didn't jump away or deliver a swift kick to his gonads.

"Hurry, don't stay in the rain too long."

Romano nodded dumbly. "O-Okay."

He didn't know how long Antonio stood at the door, but when Romano got to the end of the block and turned around, he was still standing there. Their eyes locked, and with a shy smile, Tony waved. Romano just stared for a moment then rounded the corner out of sight, his cheek still burning hot despite the freezing cold air.


	4. Chapter 4

**Out of my five classes this semester, Italian is eating me alive. My previous three years of Spanish isn't helping much at all.**

**Flanders and the Netherlands were under Spain's control during, like, the 15th century or so (shoddy history ftw!), which would explain why I had Tony interested in Northern Renaissance art. Please excuse me while my art major shows.**

**PS: People who caught my Regular Ordinary Swedish Meal Time reference last chapter are awesome. C:**

* * *

><p>The next morning, Tony woke to the horrendously loud noise of snoring. The close quarters of the rooms left the upper floor vulnerable to any and all noises – which discouraged the taking home of dates, lovers, and fuck buddies, thank goodness – and it didn't help that the door to Antonio's room had yet to be replaced after an unfortunate incident involving a stolen shopping cart, inner tubes, and several gallons of dish soap. He took several deep, annoyed breaths, rubbed his face, and finally dragged himself from his heavenly cocoon of blankets. Nine thirty was too early in his opinion to be awake.<p>

Gilbert, Denny, and Herakles returned from their drunken party spectacular less than two hours after Romano left to return to his dorm, and less than two hours after Antonio decided to hit the hay. The sudden explosion of yelling and singing jerked him from his light sleep, and the next hour was spent settling Gilbert and Denny down to a more respectable volume, and dragging Herakles from the foyer where he deemed suitable to crash for the night. It was almost four when the household finally went quiet and Antonio was back in bed.

Oh well, even if he was running on little sleep, he did make a promise to visit Romano today, and he was worried for his health. Last night he looked like hell and really didn't look like he'd make it home alone. He was half expecting there to be a story in the paper about a little auburn-haired freshman boy getting jumped and shanked at one in the morning with his body parts scattered around throughout the neighborhood. It wasn't necessarily the safest idea running around alone in the middle of the night.

Antonio wasn't surprised to hear the TV on Saturday morning cartoons when he came downstairs while adjusting the zipper of his green jacket from his haste to get dressed. Even though it was a weekend morning and they had a house full of party people, there were a couple who woke up bright and early nonetheless. Kiku was comfortably snuggled on the couch, with Felix at his feet and a sleeping Herakles sprawled on his lap. Sometime in the last several hours, the Greek had showered and changed, for he didn't reek of beer any longer.

"Good morning, Antonio." Kiku was quiet, and Antonio almost missed the greeting. His small dainty fingers were absently playing with Herakles' dark curls. "You're up earlier than usual."

Antonio yawned and reached to the ceiling to stretch. "Yeah, I have a friend I'll be visiting. I want to make sure he made it home okay."

"_Ooh_!" Felix spun around with an interested gleam in his eye. "Is he that cute baby face you brought home last night? Why didn't you let him stay the night?" His voice turned into a sing-song teasing tone.

A hint of pink brushed on Antonio's cheeks. He didn't even try to hide it. "Y-Yeah, Romano. He didn't want to stay here tonight, he really wanted to go back to his dorm. I couldn't force him not to, that'd be rude."

"D'awww, you're so _adorkable_, Tony." Antonio was used to Felix's lighthearted teasing, given they lived together under the same roof since last semester. In fact, it was this teasing that gave him the guts to walk up to Romano back on Monday after their lecture that morning. Felix knew too well how he'd had his eye on Romano for quite some time and tipped him off that he would be at that frat party last weekend. Felix was like some magic gossip genie who knew everything and everyone. Antonio didn't even know how he found out about his little crush.

As he went into the kitchen, the little blond continued his chattering, listing off some things he'd learned about Romano; his favorite color was red, he liked wolves, there were rumors his family history was closely tied with the Italian mafia, and he used to sell handmade pottery sets on Etsy when he was in high school. Kiku apparently was upset he no longer did, for he found a set of adorable decorative Pokemon-themed mugs in his shop that he'd _love_ to get his hands on. Antonio didn't think Romano as the type to be into such a children-oriented series, and he found it kind of endearing. He'd have to find this Etsy account later and see pictures of his works.

When he was helping himself to a bowl of Lucky Charms, he heard footsteps and disgruntled growling.

"I swear, it's like sleeping with a herd of stampeding elephants."

"Good morning, Eddie."

Antonio flashed a grin at their resident nerd and computer specialist. Eduard was obviously fresh from bed; his short blond hair was stuck up in funny odd angles, and he was in a loose t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. His eyes were squinted behind his glasses and blinking rapidly against the bright kitchen light.

"I'm rather tempted to move into our dungeon of a basement, even if it's freezing cold and haunted down there."

"My offer for you to bunk in my room is still open, you know that."

"Except it wouldn't make much of a difference. Besides, it'd be nice to have more than a blanket thumb-tacked between my privacy and...them. Thanks for the offer, though. Where are you off to so early?"

"Oh, it's not _that_ early. I get up early more often than not."

"Yeah, during the week when you have classes. I've never seen you up earlier than eleven on weekends."

"I get up early on weekends too! ...Sometimes." He placed his bowl in the dishwasher and dug for his phone in his pockets. "I'm seeing a friend this morning, he's been out in the rain and probably really sick."

"Ah, okay. Good luck with that. Hey, have you seen my orange juice?"

Antonio paused halfway through sending a text to Romano. "Uh. I don't know, maybe someone else drank it? I wouldn't be surprised if one of the guys upstairs got it."

"_Ugh_." Eduard pulled out the milk and settled for cereal that morning. The fridge door was shut rather violently, and Antonio couldn't help but step back towards the living room. While Ed was a more docile, if snarky, kind of guy, he was notorious for being beastly in the morning, especially when noisy housemates were involved. "I swear, I house with a bunch of pigs, this is ridiculous, seriously."

"Sorry 'bout that, maybe next time you put your name on it with a threat message?"

"I'll do just that."

"...Yeah. I'll see you later. Have fun chewing out the other guys."

"Yep. Later."

* * *

><p>Antonio regretted wearing a light jacket the moment he stepped outside. His skin erupted in goosebumps as he jumped down the front porch, and by the time he walked a block he was hugging himself to fight off the chilly October air. The rain let up sometime in the early hours of the morning, but it was still overcast, and a frightfully cold breeze was blowing about the almost bare trees. He at least was smart enough to grab a hat on his way out the door, a thick grey one with ear flaps and tassels.<p>

He decided to bring his messenger bag with him, which bounced against the back of his thighs as he sped walked to Remus Hall. In it was some schoolwork; his notes for art history, some worksheets from his Spanish class, and a little treat for Romano if he were well enough for sweets. He was sure that his housemates wouldn't miss the bag of saltwater taffy he decided to steal from the snack cabinet.

Remus Hall was easy to find. It was a highrise dormitory right across the street of the main campus, and despite the mass of occupants that lived inside, it was mostly quiet and void of people. It wasn't surprising, given it was an early weekend morning. Sadik was the Resident Assistant in charge of the front desk this morning, and in his half-asleep state, he didn't notice him walk in through the front doors. His familiar mask was askew from his head cradling in the nook of his arm, and Antonio was amused to see a little Halloween pumpkin sticker on the edge of the white plastic.

In the common room, a well dressed young man was softly playing the piano with a lovely brunette beside him reading a rather thick textbook. He recognized them both as some friends of Gilbert. He waved when he passed by on his way to the elevator. The woman looked up and gave him a warm smile.

The elevator ride was a terrifying ordeal, for it made creaking noises and shook a bit on its way up. He almost had a panic attack when it came to a halt and paused, but it was just taking its time opening the doors. He came across no other people when he walked down one of the corridors, but there was some loud, obnoxious techno music coming from the other end of the hall. He felt the ground vibrate as he stood in front of room 317.

It was decorated with some small modest things. Print outs of both a Russian flag and an Italian flag were taped on opposite sides of the door. There was a large laminated paper on the middle of the door, which matched the ones on all the other doors in the hall. It had Romano's name Sharpied on it, as well as his roommate's, Ivan. There were notes in dry erase marker on it, mostly greetings and doodles that visitors and friends had left behind. It was cute and quite homey. Antonio missed his freshman days when he lived in a dorm.

With a deep breath, he knocked the door and waited for a response. After a minute of silence, he tried again, louder and more persistent. He knew that Romano must be asleep and he felt really bad for trying to wake him, but if his roommate's in, perhaps he'd answer the door. Then again, the roommate might be asleep, too. He never met this Ivan guy, but he didn't want to give him a bad first impression.

He decided to try one more time, the three solid knocks loud in hopes that someone would get up. He knew he accomplished his goal when a yell came from the other side.

"_OMIGODWHATDOYOUWANT! WHOEVER IS OUT THERE BETTER BE GONE OR I'LL BREAK YOUR SKULL!_"

There was a momentary silence then the door flew open, revealing Romano in all his sickly half-asleep glory. His eyes were welled with miserable tears and lined with dark, unhealthy bags. His face was red with fever, the bruise on his cheekbone was dark and yellowed, and his short hair was a curled mess. Antonio was surprised and displeased to see that, under the blanket held tightly around Romano's shoulders, the younger boy was dressed in nothing but boxer shorts.

"For fuck's sake, Antonio. If I had the strength to, I'd throw you out my window and make sure you land on your head." He sniffed and let out a groan as a violent shiver ran through his body. "Why the fuck are you here?"

"Ah..." Antonio stepped in, gently ushering the other towards the bed. Thankfully, Romano didn't put up a fight and wobbled back to the bed and collapsed onto it, burying himself in vain into the blankets that were thrown about and falling off the mattress. There was no sign of his roommate. "I told you that I was going to visit you to make sure you're okay. I'm happy I did, you're not...okay at all."

"Golly gee, I wonder what gave you that idea, Sherlock?"

The room was small and cramped, with two beds and desks lined up against each side of the dorm. Romano's side was a cluttered mess, with papers and books and various small electronics thrown about the desk area and laundry pouring out the closet. His wet clothes from the night before was thrown on the ground. It was a wonder how all that stuff managed to stay on Romano's side of the imaginary line; his roommate's side was more organized even with various things carelessly thrown about.

Antonio placed his bag next to Romano's desk (since the chair was currently used as a makeshift bedside table) and helped tuck him into the bed. "Don't you want some pajamas or something? Aren't you cold?"

"I'm _freezing_. But I don't feel like putting anything on."

"How about I try dressing you so you'll be warm?"

"No, fuck you, that's really creepy. Go away, I wanna sleep."

"But..." Antonio picked up the blankets off the ground and arranged them on top of Romano. "You said you're really cold, and you'll be warmer if you dress in something other than your underwear."

"_Fiiiine_." Romano flailed an arm towards the closet. "I have some sweatpants in there somewhere. If I put them on will you stop bugging me?"

Antonio let out a little chuckle. "Yeah, I'll let you sleep, Romano."

It was an interesting experience going through the closet. He could tell that originally there was some sort order with how some shirts were put up in hangers, but at some point and time Romano got lazy with the laundry and just threw them onto the ground and haphazardly on the hangers. He pulled out what he hoped were clean black sweatpants and shook Romano awake from his doze to hand them to him. After some short remarks, Romano was no longer pantsless and tucked into the blankets comfortably. He clung onto his pillow, and in a blink of an eye, he was asleep.

Antonio felt awkward sitting on the side of the bed, playing with his fingernails and staring outside the window. He was mostly confident that by this point he was at least friends with Romano, even if it was kind of a weird, messed up sort of friendship. Romano was naturally a bitter person, and he'd seen how the freshman could be shameless in expressing his displeasure if he were in a particularly bad mood or found a person or situation irritating. The fact that he was sitting here, right now in Romano's dorm room while in his most vulnerable, had to be a miracle or something. He was prepared to walk away rejected, but not exactly being welcomed _inside_.

He didn't even know why he kept chasing after Romano despite the constant hints and pushes for him to leave and stop bothering him. With any other person, Antonio would respect those wishes, for he was the type to please people even if it meant to stop being such a bother, but with Romano it was definitely different. And not just because Tony was crushing on him.

Perhaps it was how open Romano was those few times they talked. Even despite the initial disgust Romano held when Antonio gave him his greetings, within moments he was opening himself so easily and enjoying their seemingly mindless conversations. Even after Romano played his ignoring game and switched his gears to courting Belle, Antonio still made attempts to find him and to just _talk _to him, even if it's just a small hello.

However, despite the little...something that they have right now, and how apparently comfortable Romano was with him, Antonio wasn't sure if he should stay or leave. He eyed his bag next to the desk and bit his lower lip.

Well, Romano never did specifically tell him to leave the room after tucking into his bed. He'd just stay a couple hours to keep an eye on his fever and make sure it didn't get any worse. By the looks of it, it was just some really bad head cold. A sore throat, congestion, and fever, but no violent coughing or nausea. If Antonio's assumptions were right, after lots of sleep he should be fine hopefully by the end of the weekend.

With a shrug, Antonio grabbed his bag and pulled out his Spanish homework.

* * *

><p>"You do realize I'm straight, right?"<p>

"Hm?" Antonio looked up from the chemistry textbook resting on his crossed legs, his orange highlighter gnawed between his teeth.

Romano didn't look up from his novel. He was curled up against the headboard of his bed, his knees drawn upward and serving as a rest for his book. He placed a small Post It note at the edge of a passage, joining it with the rainbow of sticky notes adorning the pages. "You're always doing all this weird gay shit when you're with me. I'm not gay."

Antonio cocked his head to the side and placed the highlighter down on the textbook. He adjusted himself on the bed to relieve his cramped legs and leaned forward. "What brought that up?"

Romano blamed his fever for the red that flushed his cheeks. He tenderly touched the bruise on his cheek and directed his eyes to his desk. "Just...that shit you did Friday night. I'm not...I don't swing that way."

"Who said that smooch was more than just a smidgen of affection?" Antonio's wording made Romano gasp and stiffen. "Maybe I just wanted to kiss your boo boo better."

"A-Are you making fun of me?" The hint of a smile on Tony's face made Romano sputter and pout. "Stop laughing at me! That's a dumb and stupid excuse for a kiss. It was uncalled for and an invasion of my personal space."

"You seemed rather okay with it before."

"I was cold and miserable and not in my right mind!" Romano took a deep breath and gave Antonio a glare. He left out the part where he liked the attention he received that night, and when he collapsed in his bed in a wet, shuddering mess, he appreciated the sincerity Antonio showed him, and had wished that he did walk him home just for the satisfaction of the other being there for him. He was...a good friend. Yeah, that's the extent of their relationship. Antonio made a reliable friend. Romano was not interested in going any farther than that. He sniffled in a vain attempt to clear the congestion in his nose. "Just because I didn't do anything about that kiss Friday night does not mean I approve of it."

"What about at that party–"

"_Would you quit bringing up that dumb party?_" Romano snarled and threw his book onto the bed. Antonio visibly flinched and the playful smirk fell from his lips. "That was a dumb mistake, okay? It never happened, and you will never talk about it again."

Just because they were _friends _didn't mean he'd let everything slide.

"...Sorry."

"Learn to keep your mouth shut and your hands to yourself, jerkwad."

Romano returned to his book and slapped on another little sticky note on the page. There was no movement from the other end of the bed for a moment, then a sigh and slight shuffling before Antonio found another, more comfortable position and returned to his assigned reading.

For the past two and a half hours, the two of them were like this. The atmosphere was thick, heavy, and awkward, and Antonio was restless. Romano couldn't focus on his novel, despite the looming date for the upcoming British Literature essay exam coming within the short week.

He didn't even know why they declared today to be a study day. Even if Romano were feeling tons more better compared to yesterday, he didn't feel in the mood to dive into any his books and catch up on his work, not even art history. He wanted to spend the day sleeping just like the day before, all warm and snuggled and pretending the world didn't exist. Unfortunately, Antonio existed, which meant that he didn't get that wish.

He'd probably take the current situation a bit better if he had known Antonio would be stopping by again. Just like yesterday, he had no warning when he decided to knock the door of its hinges. Antonio claimed he sent text messages warning him he was on his way over, but obviously Romano didn't get them. The rain was merciless to electronic devices, after all. He had yet to contact Grampa about his need for a new phone.

The silence that settled didn't last too long. There was a hollow _thomp_ of a large textbook shutting, and Romano looked up to see Antonio pushing his chemistry book aside.

"Hey, douchebag, what're you doing?" Not like Romano was really interested. Antonio could just be switching his focus on another subject or something.

Antonio didn't seem like he was, though. He lifted his bag from the floor – it was a large orange backpack instead of his worn green messenger, to accommodate his larger books – and pulled out a plastic bag.

"Do you like saltwater taffy?"

Romano's attention was definitely piqued.

"Maybe. Do you have cinnamon ones?"

Antonio turned about the colorful bag, examining and shuffling the candies inside to spot the desired flavored. "Yep."

"Then fuck yes."

The bag was opened with earnest and Romano was given a handful of pinkish red saltwater taffy. He eagerly popped one in his mouth (his stupid cold didn't make the spicy flavor as enjoyable as he'd like), and as he opened the second candy, Antonio spoke up.

"So, like, I have an idea for a sort of game."

Romano's eyes narrowed. He couldn't help but feel that the taffy was a bribe. "What sort of game?"

Antonio jolted and held a hand up in a defensive way. "Oh, woah, I don't mean like a dirty game or nothing. Just like some sort of studying game or something. I swear, there isn't any sort of stripping or drinking involved or anything."

"...If you say so. What kind of studying game is this?"

"Well, you really like art history, right? I mean I've caught the vibe that you do." Romano nodded slowly, skepticism still furrowing his brows. "Well, how about I have you try to identify all these different Renaissance paintings? That sounds fun, doesn't it?"

At that, Romano's eyes widened. It wasn't from the challenge, for he rocked anything Renaissance related since his middle school years. It was more at the absurdity of the game, and the fact that they weren't touching _anything _Renaissance related in their class until next semester. "What kind of studying is that? In case you haven't read the syllabus, stupidhead, Prof isn't going anywhere past Gothic art."

Antonio shrugged a shoulder and pulled out his smart phone from the pocket of his fleece jacket. "I know, but..." He paused as he was distracted with the device. "I mean, we need a bit of a break, don't we? We've been doing school stuff for a while, and I thought this would be a fun way to relax." Green eyes looked up at Romano. "That is, if you don't really mind. I mean, if you don't want to we don't have to, I just thought it'd be fun to see how much you know about Renaissance art."

"Well, just so you know." A bookmark was stuffed into Romano's novel and he threw it onto his desk. The idea, once he thought about it, wasn't that bad. A smirk grew on his face and he stretched out his legs. "Renaissance is my game. I bet you that I'll be able to name every piece of work you show me."

The hesitant look was gone, and Antonio smiled. "Really? What do you bet?"

Romano crossed his arms. "...Okay, here's the deal. You show me any ten works of art, either it be a painting, sculpture, or architecture, and if I get them all right, you buy me dinner."

"That's kind of cocky. I accept your bet."

"For a week."

"Wait, _what_?" Antonio's face fell and his hand with the phone fell onto the bed sheet. "That's unfair, that's much for a little guessing game!"

Romano put on a wry smile. "Well, you're doubting my superior abilities, so I'll make them stakes high. You know how much I like to eat. Now, what's your bet?"

"Um..." Antonio bit his lower lip in thought. "I still think that you can't do that, there's so much art and architecture and stuff..."

"Bet, Tony. What's your bet?"

Antonio scratched under his chin. "...How about you come to a party with me."

Romano's wry smile was gone in an instant. "What?"

"Next Monday is Halloween. Bertie's throwing a Halloween block party and at least half the campus is showing up. If you get just one wrong, you're coming."

"What? I don't want to go to no stinking party! Especially one _Gilbert_ is throwing! A-And _you_ will be there!"

"Of course I will, I live there, and I've yet to miss a Halloween of dressing up. Anyway, that's my end of the bet."

Romano hated the sly look that was on Antonio's face. He didn't want to go even _near_ that part of the neighborhood during this party, and he wanted to get out of this bet. However, he wanted to wipe that sly look off his face. Romano was rather confident in his ability to identify Renaissance works, since he spent quite a bit of time in middle and high school studying it during his free time, as well as took an art history class in high school. The primary reason was to become "smarter" than Feliciano, who was a Goddamned _wizard_ with anything art related, but he also found the history of the different artists and works of art intriguing. He unwrapped another piece of cinnamon saltwater taffy.

He had this bet in the bag.

"Fine then. You're on, Bastard. Give me what you got."

Fifteen minutes and eight pieces of art later, Romano had the most smug look on his face, and Antonio was digging his teeth into his lower lip. So far, he'd been able to guess every single picture without hesitation. Botticelli's _Birth of Venus_, Dontello's _David_, Da Vinci's _Madonna of the Rocks_; these were seriously too easy. Antonio was focusing too much on the popular artists, which the older realized five slides into the game. It'd been a couple minutes since the last picture (Ghiberti's _Gates of Paradise_), and he was tearing the 3G apart on his phone to find _something_ that would stump Romano. Didn't he say that he was a master in Renaissance art?

"Caravaggio isn't Renaissance, is he?"

Romano shook his head. "Nope, he's Baroque. Too far in the future. Don't even try showing me anything of his, though, I know a ton of his paintings.

"...Okay." Antonio continued flicking through Google, and Romano buried himself into his bed, his arms tucked behind his head and content blooming in his chest. Despite his cold and his overall bad weekend, he was feeling so good right now, the result of the mix of Antonio's company and their bet that he was currently kicking ass at. He was waiting for the last two pictures, so he could prove to Antonio he was a Renaissance god, and so he could have his week of free food.

"'Kay, I got one!" There was a smile on Antonio's face, one that said _Oh, I got you now_. He showed the phone screen to Romano, and Romano froze.

"What. This isn't Renaissance."

Antonio nodded. "Yes it is."

"What? It doesn't look like it!" He took the phone and looked closely at it. There was a nagging feeling that he knew where the painting was from, for he definitely had seen it before. It just wasn't Renaissance, it couldn't be. Unless…

"This is Northern Renaissance, isn't it?"

Antonio chuckled.

"Fuck you! I didn't say to do northern art! I don't know much about northern art!"

"You didn't specify to stay within Italy."

"B-But–"

"So you lose this bet, then?"

Romano's face twisted into a glare. "No, I fucking don't. Just because I'm not that great outside of Italy doesn't mean that I don't know shit about other places. Gimme a bit, lemme figure this out!" He held the phone out of reach when Antonio tried to take it back, and stared with narrow eyes at the three and a half inch screen.

He knew enough about Northern Renaissance art for a couple artists come to mind. However, he couldn't distinguish which one it _could_ be since he didn't actually study northern art much. He knew that the painting he was looking at was a triptych, since it was divided into three different sections that could be folded. The style was much different from Italy; while in Italy there were a lot of attention put into anatomy, perspective, and _perfection_ in general, the north (Flanders came to mind) was more focused on details and symbolism on those details. Even with the small screen, he could see the small details thrown into the work to lay out the story of the Annunciation, one of the many popular subjects from the Renaissance period.

He could sit there and point out all the differences between this work and the ones from the south in Italy, and even give a lecture of all the comparisons and contrasts right here in front of Antonio, but for the life of him, he couldn't put a stupid artist to the stupid painting.

He peeked up and scowled at the look Antonio gave him. He said slowly, "…Is it Van Eyck?"

Antonio snorted and burst into laughter. That was all Romano needed to know that he wrong, he lost the bet, and he was not getting his free food. He threw the phone at him and nailed his shoulder. That only made Antonio laugh harder, and after a minute he rubbed his face and calmed down to a chuckle.

"Oh, you should've seen your face while you were trying to figure it out. You almost burned a hole right through my phone with that pout of yours."

"Don't make fun of me!" Romano smacked him across the head with his pillow. "I'm sorry if I don't know shit about the friggin' north! My focus stayed in Italy, where all the _talent_ was!"

"It was Campin, not Van Eyck. You were close, though. You were in the same country."

"What the fuck ever." He gave Antonio another hit over the head. "You suck. I don't want to go to your stupid party."

"But you lost the bet, so you have to. You have to dress up, too."

"I don't want to dress up! I haven't done that shit since I was twelve."

"Oh, but come on Romano!" Romano pressed himself against his bed headboard when Antonio scooted closer. He glared (not _pouted_, even if Tony's little smile told him he was), and resisted the urge to bite at the finger that poked his cheek. "It'll be fun, I promise. We got a permit from the courthouse so we could close off that street for the night. There will be a lot of people, but there'll be lots of space, too. We did this last year, so we know what we're doing and it won't be all wild and crazy and stuff. It won't be like that frat party we were at last weekend, I promise."

Romano thought about punching the pleading look off Antonio's face – which was way too close to his, does this dude seriously know anything about personal space? Actually, all of Antonio was too close. He was almost on top of him and Romano did not approve of that, even if a small voice in the back of his head told him that it was totally fine (and go figure, it was the same voice that said that Antonio would be a good guy to hang with several days ago). He took a deep breath and gently pushed him back.

"Okay. Fine. You won the dumb bet anyway, so I'll go."

Romano should have actually pushed Antonio right off the bed, because suddenly, a pair of strong arms embraced him – _suffocated_ him – and he was overwhelmed with body heat.

"Great! That's awesome! I'll come by and get you, then, or maybe you want to come down by yourself? Well, even if you do know how to get to my place, I'll come and pick you up, I'd really like to see what your costume will be!"

"Okay, okay, awesome, yay I'm going to this party! Now would you please get off, I can't breathe over your big fat body." In actuality, the embrace wasn't unwelcomed, but he wasn't about to come to accept that. He managed to pull a leg free from his bedsheets and gave Antonio a kick in the gut. Not a hard one, just enough for him to back the fuck off. "I won't really dress in anything spectacular, like I said I haven't dressed up in years."

Instead of a pleased response, Romano was surprised and struck dumb by the hard, stony look Antonio gave him. He gulped and wondered what he said to get such a response.

"_Don't_," a finger was jabbed at Romano's chest, "you think about being something totally lame. If I get here and you're a bedsheet ghost, I'm tearing it off of you and dragging you straight to the theater building. I know people who have the key into the costume department."

"Alright!" Romano's voice was squeakier than he wanted. "I get it, you take this shit seriously. I'll go and get a proper costume."

The frown and narrow eyes were gone instantly, and Antonio patted his cheek affectionately. "Good! I'm glad we got that straightened out."

"Yeah. That's good."

Well, there went Romano's idea of halfassing his costume. A bedsheet ghost seemed like such a good idea, too.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for taking ages in getting this chapter done. I meant to have this up some weeks earlier, but school and inspiration are merciless little bitches.**

**I want to thank you guys for the wonderful reviews you've been leaving. :D I feel so much better and I get a nice ego boost when I get a nice review in my inbox. Thank you guys so much. C:**

**Just a little note: Egypt will make an itty bitty cameo in here, but he will be referred to by his middle name "Muhammad" instead of "Gupta." This is personal taste, since I find Gupta to be a ridiculous and poor choice in name, while Muhammad makes much more sense (it is, after all, a Muslim name). Besides, Muhammad is a badass name.**

* * *

><p>Romano lifted his chin as he adjusted his dark green tie, his eyes running up and down the tall and slim mirror mounted next to his closet. He admired himself tonight for putting together such a nice, fitting costume in so short notice.<p>

He was particularly happy he brought with him some formal-ish clothes when he moved into his dorm back in August. During the packing process, he almost skipped over what he thought were unneeded clothing, but as he pulled at the lapels of his suit jacket, he realized that stuffing his suit ensemble into his luggage was perhaps one of the better decisions he had made in his life. The slacks and vest felt a bit looser than he remembered, but otherwise the suit was perfect. He placed his fedora over his slicked, straightened hair and nodded at his reflection.

He made a mighty fine mafioso, if he said so himself.

His hair hadn't cooperated too well during his grooming period earlier in the evening. With hesitation, he even allowed Ivan to comb back his reddish locks, but the gel Romano had was very lightweight and only served the purpose of flattening stray curls and unruly frizz after a shower. His bangs fell around his face, but with his completed costume, he figured it didn't matter. It added more to his character.

Earlier, while Romano was covering up the faded bruise on his face with make up, Ivan expressed his displeasure for being unable to attend the Halloween party tonight. He had wanted to come, if only to be a big pain in the ass to Gilbert, but circumstances beyond his control called to him. Tonight until tomorrow, Ivan was out of town.

"_Tell_ _Jones_ _I_ _owe_ _him_ _a_ _punch_ _in_ _the_ _face_," was the creepy giant's parting words, and all Romano could do then was nod slowly and wave a hand in an unenthusiastic farewell.

As he was tucking his plastic prop gun into his belt, he nearly jumped out of his skin at the three loud hinge-rattling knocks that came from the door. Romano let out a distressed, growl-like groan and rolled his eyes. Would it _kill_ Antonio to actually knock like a civilized human being and not punch the door off its frame?

"For the love of Christ, Antonio," he called out, slipping on his leather shoes before throwing open the door. "I'm right here, you know. Keep it in your pants." At his first glance of Antonio, he raised an eyebrow. "What are you suppose to be, a burglar?"

His eyes were instantly drawn to the mask Antonio was wearing. It looked like a black handkerchief tied around his head, with holes cut out for his eyes. He wore a black wide-brimmed hat with some gold embroidery design around it, a black shirt and pants, and a black cape that hung over his shoulders and obscured most of his body.

"You don't know?" Antonio spread out his arms, the cape falling back behind his shoulders and revealing the details of his costume. The shirt was loose with baggy sleeves tucked into leather gloves, and the top of the shirt was unbuttoned to show some of his dark chest. His pants were fitted – and attractively so – and his knee-high boots were scuffed, but in an aesthetically appealing way. A chain necklace hung low from around his neck, a pendant dangling from it. Around his waist was a black belt, embroidered with the same gold design as his hat, and...was that a _rapier_?

Romano made sure that his observations were short and quick. He wasn't about to let his eyes linger too long on any part of his body, especially the revealed chest. "I feel like I should, but no, I don't. Please enlighten me."

Antonio's initial cheer faded, and his arms slumped to his side. "...I'm Zorro."

"Oh." Romano's eyes roamed up and down Antonio's tall figure once more, finally getting the reference. It was a well put together costume, and looked nowhere near like some overpriced store-bought catastrophe. "That's nice. I never saw the movie."

"What? You've never seen either of the Zorro movies?"

"I was under the impression that there were more than just two."

"Well, I was basing my costume off of Antonio Banderas. I've never seen all the other Zorro movies."

"I haven't seen any." After he was sure he had his keys and brand-spankin'-new phone, Romano shut off the room light and closed and locked his door.

"I will change that. One of these days we'll have a movie night and I'll make you watch those two movies. I really like them and are probably my favorite movies ever. The second isn't as good as the first, of course, but still." It was Antonio's turn to check out Romano's costume, and a smile slipped on his face. "I'm happy to see you didn't get some shitty half-assed outfit together for tonight. I'm guessing you're a gangster?"

Romano nodded. He stood up straighter and fixed the little chain draping from the faux pocket of his black vest. "Mafioso, actually. I considered calling Grampa and asking if he still had his zoot suit so I could wear that, but I'm highly doubting he'd send it over. It's practically antique, and I'm sure it'd be several sizes too big, anyway."

Antonio's face was one of pure interest. "Really? Man, that's really awesome. Your grandfather sounds like a cool guy."

"Meh." Romano shrugged a shoulder. "Yeah, you can say that."

As they made their way down the stairs (Antonio visibly expressed his displeasure for riding the elevator), Tony's black cape billowed behind him, and Romano eyed the rapier sheathed on the decorative belt. The handle and guard were simple, but no way plain; it had an intricate carving pattern about the hilt, and it was faded and scuffed as if it were used often.

"So, um." Romano felt goosebumps erupt over his arms when olive eyes immediately cast their attention on him, and they were not from the cold air that blew over them as they walked out the front doors. A hand adorned with a couple thick plastic rings was motioned towards the rapier. "So, like, is that a legit sword?"

"Oh, this?" Romano jumped back when the sword was pulled out quickly and swiftly. The metal blade shone under the light of the moon. "Yeah, kind of. It's one of Frankie's practice rapiers. He's in the fencing club, and he let me borrow it for tonight." Antonio smoothly waved the weapon about, the blade making swooshing sounds as it cut through the frigid air. "He agreed that it'd put the finishing touch to my Zorro persona. I took a few fencing lessons back in my freshman year with him, but I cannot replicate anything from the Zorro movies without losing a finger." He made a few jabs before sheathing it back into his belt.

"...That's...really cool." Romano felt his inferiority complex rumble within his chest. He could see that the embroidery on Antonio's cape was done not in some factory, but in fact done by a person with their hands and a machine. A lot of work must have gone into the costume, either that or it was pre-done by someone else and bought with a lot of money. Romano couldn't help but stroke his hand down the fabric, feeling the embroidery before clenching the cape in his fingers. The fabric felt far from cheap. "Did you put this costume together yourself, or did you buy it off some guy off of the internet?"

"Why, I put it together myself, of course!" Antonio crossed his arms and put on a proud smile. "I've only worn a store-bought costume, like, twice, and that's when I was a tiny little thing."

"So you sewed everything?"

"What? No. Just because it was put together and not bought as an ensemble doesn't mean that I sewed everything together. My skills with a thread and needle are limited, so we bought the shirt and pants from thrift stores and fixed them up as we needed. The one thing we did from scratch was my cape, which wasn't so bad since I know people in the costuming department who were willing to help out."

"How long did it take you to put that whole ensemble together?"

"Everything?" Antonio cocked his head to the side and scratched his cheek in thought. Romano realized that while they were still a few minutes' walk from Antonio's house, he could clearly hear music in the air. "I believe back in February or so we started buying some of the stuff. The cape I started over the summer with the help of Frankie and some other old friends."

"So you take this stuff seriously, then. I don't know if I've ever met anyone who was that hardcore into putting a costume together just to wear it for one night."

Antonio shrugged a shoulder. "It's more or less a tradition between Francis and I. We grew up together, and every year we've always put together kickass costumes for Halloween. We've been dragged off to conventions in the past by some of our more nerdier friends because of it."

"Wow. That's really cool." Romano admired Antonio just for his passion in costume making, even if it were just a Halloween costume. The more he looked at his black outfit, the more he caught all the little things that made it look handmade yet well done. His eye for fashion couldn't help but catch some of the places where the shirt was cut and sewn with care and skill, and all the embroidery on both the cape and the hat entranced him. He thought about trying to steal that hat later in the night. It looked really, really nice.

He knew they arrived to the block party when several girls wearing almost nothing trotted past in their impossibly high heels. He grimaced at the lack of proper coverage, because those tiny skirts and booty shorts and strapless tops did nothing to fight off the cold air. Romano was wearing perhaps three layers at least, one being his suit jacket, but he was still feeling chilly. Antonio waved to two of the girls who noticed them, and even seemed pretty happy when they toddled over in their four inch stilettos to greet them.

Either Antonio ignored their obvious flirting, or he really was that oblivious. They both held themselves with rounded hips jutted to the side, their backs curved to emphasize their backsides, and their torsos held forward just enough to show off their cleavage. Romano could tell that they wanted him and Tony to escort them the rest of the way to the party from how they chattered and giggled over every little word they said.

Romano was flattered and offered an arm to one of them – a bunny girl. Antonio didn't do the same. He gave the other girl a small wave (she was some terrible Alice in Wonderland replication) and placed a hand on her bare upper back almost with hesitation. His other arm comfortably rested around Romano's shoulders. Romano stiffened and bit his lower lip.

When Antonio had said that this was a block party, he hadn't using the term lightly. If the music was loud back at his dorm, it was ear-bleeding here in this part of the neighborhood. Romano felt pity for all the neighbors, but if the same party took place the previous year, they must be used to it.

The street was blocked off, like Antonio said, and it was crowded with costume-clad partygoers. There were people spilling out of the front door of Antonio's abode, and more were pushing themselves in. The girls were giggling, and the tiny bunny kept whispering things Romano's his ears. He never caught what she said, for he was too distracted with the heavy, yet comforting arm pulling him into Antonio's side. Tony's other hand since fell from Wonderland's back, and when Romano peeked around his body, he could see the dejected look on her face.

"It's really crowded here," Romano yelled over the music. The question was meant for Antonio, but the bunny girl's annoying shriek rang in his ears instead.

"Yeah, isn't it? Ain't this a blast? I'm so excited! Aren't you?"

"Yeah, sure. We can say that. Um, do you have friends to meet up with or something?"

"Oh, but..." The girl frowned. "I wanted to walk in with you. You're so cute."

At the start of the month, Romano would have accepted the offer without hesitation. However, tonight, he wasn't interested in her blushed cheeks, pout lips or round, exposed breasts. He actually wanted her gone.

Thank God Antonio realized this. His arm jostled Romano's shoulders and his mouth came close to his ear. "Hey, it's cold outside. How about we go inside? You can say hi to some people and have a drink."

"That sounds like an awesome idea. I'm down with that." He turned to the young woman and pulled back his arm. "Listen, sweetcheeks, how about you find your friends? I'll see you around, okay?" He gave her a smile and suggestive wink. That was enough for the disappointed frown to disappear, and she let out a shrill giggle.

"_Omigod_, Antonio." Romano let out a deep breath when they squeezed into the house. Inside, the music was deafening and Romano had to stand on his toes with his mouth to Antonio's ear for the other to hear him. "Thanks so much for pulling me away, I kinda really wasn't liking her. You're a savior."

"Wait, what?" Antonio gave him a baffled look. "What do you mean?"

"...I mean that you were smart for realizing that I was feeling super awkward around Miss October."

"Oh." Antonio's lips pursed and he looked away from Romano's eyes. "I actually meant that it was cold outside and I thought you'd want to meet some people. I didn't know she was making you feel uncomfortable."

Romano slapped his forehead. Of course Antonio was as dense as a rock.

Antonio's arm was back around his shoulders and he was pulled snug against his side as they pushed through the foyer and living room into the kitchen. The sliding glass door into the back yard was wide open, yet it was still really warm from the mass of bodies jammed so tight against each other.

"The drinks are in the back if you're thirsty." Shivers ran up and down Romano's back as Antonio's hot breath warmed his chilled ears. "Don't trust the punch or anything not safety sealed."

"How typical. I'll only stick to anything canned or bottled."

"That's a good boy."

They both barely walked two steps out into the back yard before a body was thrown against them. Antonio managed to keep his balance, but Romano had to grab his arm to stop himself from meeting the concrete.

"What the fuck–" Romano stumbled back to his feet and straightened his fedora. He found that he was covered in glitter, and when he looked over at Antonio, he saw that his black outfit was full of glitter as well.

"Alfred! It's so nice to see you made it!"

Romano's shoulders slumped and he let out a miserable groan. Alfred Jones, Ivan's not-friend and favorite drinking buddy, was pulling out of an enthusiastic hug with Antonio. For whatever reason, the dumb blond was half naked, clad in only jeans and a pair of canvas shoes. His bare torso was caked in body glitter, and his blond hair was a tousled mess.

"Dude, Tony, bro, you know I wouldn't miss a rad party like this!" In Alfred's hand was an opened can of Coke, and Romano immediately ran his hands over his suit in a panicked search for spilled soda. "I'm real pissed that the Red Giant didn't make it tonight. He seems to be gone a lot, I have a sneaking suspicion he's involved with the Russian mafia, or maybe he's a spy for the Russian government. I'm really digging your costume this year! It's not as flashy as last year, but you still look hot. All you need is a black horse and you're set to woo the bitches."

Antonio laughed. "Thanks, Al. It's really cold to be running around almost naked, what are you suppose to be?"

Alfred made a noise of realization and dug a hand into his pocket. He pulled out a pair of fangs and stuck them onto his teeth. That was enough for Antonio to finally understand the costume and his mouth dropped into a smiling gape.

"Good Christ, Alfred, this has to be one of the reasons I love you. You're a genius."

Alfred gave a bow. "I caught one of the Twilight movies a couple weeks ago on Starz and bet Arthur that I could pull off a sexy sparkly vampire tonight. He didn't believe me for some obscure reason. Just because it was a terrible movie didn't mean I wasn't going to see if Robbie Pat's method of attracting the chicks would work in real life. So far it's working well. Captain Kirk now owes me fifty bucks and a foot massage."

The two high-fived, and it was then that Alfred finally noticed Romano scowling beside Antonio. "Hey, little man!" Romano grunted when his shoulder was punched rather hard. "Tony said that you'd come by tonight. I didn't believe him! It's awesome seeing you here. How's Rasputin doing? I haven't seen him in a few days."

"He's...fine." Romano preoccupied himself with brushing the glitter off his suit and avoided eye contact. "He says that he owes you a punch in the face."

"_What_? Bullshit, I still need to give him a kick in the balls, that son of a bitch. He's playing unfair now."

Romano was rather disturbed by whatever game Alfred and Ivan were playing and willed himself to not even think about it. They both shared the weirdest relationship, if it could even really be called that. They hated each other, yet they seemed like close friends. The two of them were beyond his understanding, and he preferred it to stay that way.

"I'll be sure to relay the message for you. Now if you excuse me, I'm going to grab something to drink, so..."

"_Dude_! Alfred! How was Paranormal Activity 3 last night? I feel so bad that I couldn't make it."

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT DUDE. I think it's safe to say that I'm petrified of little old ladies now. It was _terrifying_."

Romano was ignored as Alfred and Antonio fell into a heated conversation, and with his hands rubbing warmth into his cold arms, Romano wandered off dejected.

He could barely squeeze himself to the refreshment tables. He recalled Antonio's warning and skipped past the large bowl of red punch and found himself a bottle of Cherry Coke. The sweets and snacks all over the tables were mouth watering, and looking back to see both Alfred and Antonio still having their physically active conversation, he decided to help himself to some brownies and candy.

A husky baritone voice in his ear made him shriek and spit out a mouthful of fudge; "Hey, Spicy Romano Chicken, I didn't think I'd see you here." He spun around and nearly collided with yet again another bare chest, this one dark and slathered with some fragrant oil. He looked up and met the dark eyes of his Resident Assistant.

"Jesus Christ, Sadik, what the hell is wrong with you! Don't freaking do that!"

The Turkish floormate cackled. Sadik was super tall, rivaling Ivan in height, and very lean, evidence of his excellent cross country record from his high school years. His short hair was hidden under a red and gold turban, which had a large red round plastic jewel on the front with a fluttery yellow feather sticking up from behind it. He had on a small, open vest and large, poofy pants hanging low on his narrow hips, both sharing the same color scheme as his turban. He had gold bracelets, anklets, and necklaces hanging off his body, and on his face was a mask hiding his eyes, decorated with a pattern of glitter and rhinestones.

Sadik noticed his staring and pulled at his glittery vest. "I know, I look absolutely stunning tonight, don't I? People can't stop staring at this sexy piece of man meat."

"…Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of how much of a manwhore you look, but I suppose we can go along with that train of thought too if you'd like."

Sadik sputtered and drooped his shoulders. "What? Hey, this isn't my "manwhore costume," thank you very much. This is my dance costume. I just spruced it up a bit to look like a sultan."

Romano rolled his eyes. If there was one thing about Sadik that annoyed him the most, it was how pig-headed he could be. He was very cocky and liked to show off. There were people who thought he was a very fascinating person, from his outgoing personality to his exotic charms, but Romano thought of him as a pain in the ass. He didn't make a good resident assistant at all, either. About a month ago, when he was accidentally locked himself out of his room after a shower, he knocked on his door to borrow a spare key. He was answered with a drawn out, dirty moan. From then on, Romano didn't care if he were only dressed in a towel, he'd rather run downstairs into the eyes of public for a spare key than deal with Sadik's shamelessly loud and active sex life.

"You still look like a man-slut to me. I don't think sultans dress as skimpily as their harem bitches."

Sadik puffed up in anger and looked about ready to throw a hiss fit, but with a deep breath, he let himself deflate and shrugged a shoulder. "You know what, fine, that's cool. Go ahead and think that, I'll just hang out with some people who actually appreciate my costume."

Romano rolled his eyes as Sadik sashayed away to the other end of the yard, two bottles of beer in one hand and the other hand waving in the air. Even over the loud music, he could hear him yelling, "_Oh,_ _Muhammad,_ _baby~_" Waiting for the pig-headed "sultan" was another middle eastern student, this one shorter and not sharing the same enthusiasm as his partner. Like Sadik, he was half naked, but was dressed as an Egyptian Pharaoh instead. He wore a bright blue and gold headdress that draped over his shoulders, a linen skirt wrapped around his waist with a gold sash, and gold jewelry not unlike Sadik's. His eyes were heavily lined with black make up.

Romano supposed that it was a trend in college for men to dress as "lightly" as the women. In high school, he didn't recall men exposing so much of their body in such provocative ways.

He turned around to return to Antonio, but a jolt of panic struck through him when he saw that he was no longer by the back door talking to Alfred. During his little distraction with Sadik, the two had apparently finished their conversation and wandered off. Antonio didn't even bother finding him. Something akin to anger and paranoia bloomed in the bottom of his stomach and he started looking around fervently.

"Looking for someone, sweetheart?"

The voice, feminine this time, was soft, alluring, and very familiar. "Y-Yeah, kind of. Listen, have you seen this black-masked bastard…"

"If you mean Tony, he wandered off to the front yard looking for you."

Romano finally turned around and he froze when he saw blonde hair, blue eyes, and a sweet face. Sometime during his little exchange with Sadik, Belle had snuck up on him. He sputtered and his brain fumbled around with different reactions, from fear to surprise to relief.

Belle didn't look anywhere near upset or angry. She looked like she normally did before their dating fiasco, only instead of being in her work uniform or a sharp, casual dress ensemble, she was dressed in some sort of fitted wench outfit. She had a smile on her relaxed face, and her arms were crossed with one hip jutting out, as if she _knew_ something juicy that she wasn't suppose to know. Romano was effectively struck dumb, but mostly at the fact that she was actually talking to him. Calmly. As if they did this every day.

"B-B-Belle? What…" He uselessly pointed a finger at her. "I thought you hated me and were avoiding me, why are you talking to me?"

The smirk she had fell, and she looked at him like he was crazy. She shook her head and patted his cheek. "Oh, Romano. Sweet, sweet, darling Romano. You're such a little wibble freshman." Romano's eyes narrowed and gave a half glare when she started making _cooing_ noises and gave his cheek a pinch.

"I'm not a baby, stop that!" He slapped her hand away and stepped back against the refreshment table. "But I'm serious, _why_ are you talking to me?"

"Romano, sweetheart, stop thinking like a little high schooler." Despite Romano's attempt to create comfortable space between them, Belle stepped forward until they were inches apart. "Just because we had one bad night doesn't mean I'll hate you forever. That wasn't the first club I was kicked out of, and that certainly wasn't he worst date I've had. You're a really nice, sweet guy. I wanted us to just be friends in the first place."

Romano was silent as the words sunk in. She'd been kicked out of clubs before? Their date wasn't all that awful? She still wanted _to_ _talk_ _to_ _him_? "B-B-Bu– What? Why didn't you just _say_ that you weren't interested in actually dating? I'm not a little kid, I can take rejection!"

"I know, I know, I was kind of mean…but you were so _cute_ when you were all excited and you dressed yourself up so nicely, I couldn't say no. It's been a long time since I dated a wittle freshman."

"…Belle. You're a cruel, cruel person."

"Baww, Romano." She giggled and gave his face one more gentle pat. "However, that's not the only reason I decided to accept your date. I wanted to see what you were like and if you were right."

"…Right? Right for what?" Romano was skeptical and very worried. He didn't like the direction the conversation was going. He was pleased that Belle didn't hold any grudges and was eager for them to be friends…but she really was scaring him. What was she planning exactly?

"What do you mean "right for what"? I see how you and Antonio are around each other. I see how you act around him and look at him when you're together. I'm not stupid."

It took his brain a few seconds to catch the message. He gasped and his face turned a dark red within seconds. "What are you getting at? Y-You think that– No! Nonononono, we are nothing like that!

"Not yet."

"Or ever! We're just friends, we just like to hang out and talk and stuff, there's nothing between us."

"You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. Listen, Romano." An arm was snaked around Romano's shoulders and he was suddenly pulled into a tight vice grip. Despite the casual looking one-armed hug, her grip was a grip of steel. "When we were together that night, I kept a close eye on you; on all your reactions, your movements, what you said, what you did, your emotions, _everything_. I knew you wanted that night to work out, but you were _forcing_ it. You didn't actually mean the things you were telling me."

"That is a _lie_–"

"Indeed it was. You were just lying to yourself that whole night, honey. Don't think I'm bullshitting you, because if there's one thing I'm good at, it's reading people. I'm not a psychology major for shits and giggles."

Romano let out a noise akin to a squeal when the older, taller girl pulled him into an unsuspecting hug. He'd barely blinked when all of a sudden he had a face full of bare, soft cleavage.

"You need to stop denying, Romano. Even though Antonio and I don't talk much anymore, he's still like a brother to me, and I care for him so much. He likes you so, so much like you don't even know, and you're being one huge tease to him."

He was pushed out as suddenly as he was pulled into the hug and his face cupped by her slender hands. "Antonio is a really sweet guy, trust me. He may be annoying and an empty-headed dumbass sometimes, but he has a big heart. He's no pushover either. It's not everyday he'll lay himself out to another person like he does to you. He really only wants the best for you. Give him a chance."

"Belle, Goddammit, I appreciate your effort at playing matchmaker, but I'm really _not_–"

"Tony! Frankie!"

Romano's groan almost elevated into a frustrated scream as the unfortunate appearances of Antonio and Francis cut off his argument. He didn't understand how the fact he wasn't interested in men never clicked in anyone's brain. It was getting downright ridiculous. He would have turned around and left if Belle hadn't clenched her demon fingers around his arm again.

"Hi, Belle!" Antonio's sickly sweet voice made Romano want to flip the refreshment table. "Hey, Romano, I was wondering where you went. I somehow missed you back here when I was trying to find you."

Romano let out a deep breath and gave up his attempts to escape. "Antonio, Francis...hi." Francis was dressed as a musketeer, which was obvious from his large dark hat with a fluffy feather plume and long cape. He too had a rapier, but it was fancier and in better condition than Antonio's. Romano pointed at a faded brown, yet fresh stain on Francis's white shirt. "Um, you have..."

"Ugh, I _know!_" Francis rubbed his face and sighed. "Gilbert was making an ass of himself in the front yard and spilled his beer on me. I was about ready to wring his bony little neck. The party barely started and already he's getting wasted."

"Oh, my." Belle shook her head and frowned. "I hope he's okay. He should know better than to drink excessively. Didn't he learn his lesson last time when he was arrested for streaking downtown at two in the morning?"

"Honey, this is Gilbert we're talking about. No amount of lectures or arrests or fines will drag him away from beer. Alfred was nice enough to drag him inside, though, and get him under control."

Antonio shook his head. "No, that wasn't Alfred, that was Matthew."

"...I'm pretty sure it was Alfred."

"I was just talking to Alfred moments before I found you and Gilbert out front. That wasn't Alfred."

"I think I'd know the difference between the two. I've known them since they were little baby freshmen last year."

"Was he half naked and covered in glitter?"

Francis paused for a moment and shook his head. "No, he was a lumberjack."

"Then that was Matthew."

"...Oh." Francis scratched his jaw and clicked his tongue. "I thought he seemed kind of quiet. Ah, twins have never been my specialty. You know, now that I think about it, little Matthew seems to have some sort of quality that makes him more..._attractive_ than his brother..."

"Hey, Frankie?" Francis perked when Belle went to his side and looped an arm around his. "How about you take me to Gilbert so I can see if he's okay? He's always getting himself into trouble and we kind of don't want him picking any fights with big burly men who have better balance and coordination than him."

Antonio was eager to tag along, but before he could say anything, one of Belle's fingers smushed against his lips to hush him. "You, my dear, should stay here with Romano and make sure he doesn't wander off or get lost or get assaulted by any of your guests."

"Hey, I can take care of myself!"

"Bye bye, boys! Oh, and Romano." Belle unhooked herself from Francis and leaned in close to Romano's ear so neither of the other two men could hear. "_Antonio_ _has_ _a_ _really_ _nice_ _ass._"

Romano almost popped a vein from the sudden violent blood rush in his face. With a wink and a small smile, Belle rejoined Francis and the two made their way inside the crowded house.

Antonio chuckled and waved at the two. "Belle is such a sweet girl. I've never seen her angry with anyone for longer than a couple days. She makes a really good friend." He was left unheard, however, and he turned to Romano. He jumped in surprise at the violent red color of his face. "Jesus Christ, Romano, are you okay? Did you have some of the punch or something? I told you not to have anything that wasn't safety sealed!"

Did Antonio _not_ notice Belle whisper in his ear? Was he not concerned that maybe she said something terribly inappropriate which might have scarred Romano forever?

A quick scan up and down Antonio's figure scratched that idea. Maybe "scarred" was the wrong word, but Romano's point of view of Antonio was perhaps permanently skewed by her parting words. Unwanted and unavoidable lewd imagery and thoughts came crashing down on him at that very moment, and against his will, he tried to imagine Antonio without his long cape obscuring his body. His pants were rather tight...

"...mano, Romano?" His train of thought derailed and he blinked himself out of his stupor. He realized that Antonio's hands were on him, one on his shoulder and the other over his forehead. "Are you okay? Oh, God, you aren't getting sick or anything, are you? Your face is so red."

"You dumbshit, I'm fine!" A swift jabbing of Romano's heel to Antonio's toes effectively drove him back and Romano fixed his fedora. "I'm just feeling...really claustrophobic right now. I need fresh air." He ignored Antonio's strained comment on how they were _outside_ and started to make his way with difficulty to the front yard.

It was just as crowded out front as it was in the back, and he only had breathing space when he pushed himself to the street. He pulled off his fedora and ran his hands through his hair. He was feeling sick in his stomach, but not because of something he ingested.

He had just recently been satisfied with the affection he felt towards Antonio, but he passed it off as the sort of fondness between a pair of friends. While Romano had friends throughout his life, he hadn't had any actually _best_ friends, friends that he felt open and free with. He felt this way with Antonio, and when he realized this last weekend after his date disaster, he quickly proclaimed Antonio as his best friend. After that, he was comfortable and mentally stable.

However, Belle just _had_ to ruin his peace of mind. By commenting on Antonio's buttocks, his sphere of all things right and comfortable was shattered.

_Oh_ _hell,_ _it_ _was_ _just_ _a_ _flirtatious_ _remark_, he told himself, _she_ _was_ _just_ _teasing_ _and_ _making_ _fun_ _of_ _you._ _Girls_ _like_ _to_ _do_ _that_ _with_ _guys_ _who_ _are_ _friends_ _with_ _each_ _other._ _It's_ _not_ _like_ _you_ _actually_ _feel_ _that_ _way_.

But he did. He knocked his head with the ball of his palm. Not only did he have an emotional attachment to Antonio, but now there was a physical attraction growing prominently as well.

_You're just overreacting, Romano. Calm down. You've always found him kind of attractive in the not-gay way. There was probably just something in the brownies, or you're just tired and exhausted..._

"Romano! Where are you going?"

He moaned miserably and turned around. Antonio, with a very conspicuous limp, was running up to him. Romano noticed that he had managed to walk down to the end of the block, where the crowd was much thinner and consisted of sketchy folks and awkward party virgins.

Romano didn't know how to answer, so he didn't. "What do you want?"

"Well, you kind of just ran off. I was really worried. Did something happen when I was gone? Are you still hurt about Belle and seeing her was too much on you or something?"

Romano sighed and rolled his eyes. Antonio missed the nail on the head, and thank God for that. If Antonio found out the truth behind his drastic change in attitude, only worse things could happen. "No, I already told you, I was feeling claustrophobic and I wanted some free space."

"You're not thinking about going home so quickly, are you?"

The question came out as a pitiful whine, and Romano met Antonio's eyes. "Tony..." Antonio had to have inherited some Kicked Puppy gene from his family line, for it came so naturally to him. His eyes were widened and his lips barely parted in a disappointed and rejected frown. Antonio was emotional, just as much as Romano was. It was a funny comparison, since Romano's emotional outbursts involved screaming, complaining, and temper tantrums, while Antonio either laughed or gave round-eyed "LOVE ME PLEASE" pouts. Either reaction seemed harmless enough, but not according to Romano.

After a moment of contemplative thought, Romano took a deep breath and pocketed his cold hands. "No, I wasn't going to go home." Amazing how a few words could easily and completely flip a man's emotions one eighty degrees. Antonio turned as bright as the streetlights around them. "I was going to just go on a walk for a bit to get my head together, then I'll go back and we can get drunk and shit. I'm up for some of that."

"Okay! I'll come with you."

"Antonio, you really don't have to, you can go back and make sure that Gilbert didn't get himself killed like you originally wanted to"

"But I want to walk with you. It's kind of depressing and really lonely for you to walk by yourself."

Romano scuffed his shoes against the pavement. "Okay, fine, you can. It's not like anything I say would change your mind, would it?"

"Nope!" Still limping, Antonio joined his side and threw his arm around Romano's shoulders, only to be denied when the smaller man stepped aside.

"Please don't touch me."

"...Okay."

When Romano was sure that Antonio wouldn't try another one-armed hug, he returned to Antonio's side.

Antonio was quick to fill the silence. "So, what did you and Belle talk about back there?"

"Nothing much really. Just that she wanted to stay friends even though I fucked up our date and stuff."

"Oh, I'm sure that you didn't fuck up your date. You're just over exaggerating."

"Did you forget how I was caught in the middle of a downpour that night? Or how about a big beautiful bruise that I got from her beloved big brother? It's still here, I just hid it under several layers of cover up."

"But it was still kind of fun, wasn't it? And you can just think back to that night and laugh about it. I know I would. It seems like a really funny story to share with people you talk to and stuff."

"Of course you would say that. Unfortunately, I'm not you, so instead I'll just forget it ever happened."

"You know, it was because of that night that we're hanging out now."

"...N-Nuh-uh." Romano's cheeks, which had returned to their natural peachy color, turned red again. "We would have still gotten together and stuff."

"No we wouldn't. The day before your date with her, I had given up trying to find you and talk to you."

This took him by surprise. Antonio giving up on pursuing Romano's love and affection? He looked for some hint of what Antonio was feeling, but there wasn't much emotion portrayed at that moment. It was like he was hiding it. Was he embarrassed, or afraid? Or maybe his mask and the darkness of the night made it hard to see. "Bullshit. You're just saying that for pity points."

"No, really, I had. I could tell you were purposely avoiding me, and what was the point of running after someone who wasn't interested one bit in you?" His voice sharply turned melancholy. "I mean, I understand if you didn't want to hang out with a guy who found attraction in other guys, especially when that guy kissed you while in a drunken stupor."

"No, no, no, Tony, stop it. You're making me feel like a heartless jackass." He punched Antonio's shoulder, but not too hard. It was a stern friendly gesture. "What did I tell you before when you found me caught in the rain? I'm the one who's suppose to be all mopey and self-loathing."

He attempted a soft smile, a smile like the ones that Antonio always flashed him effortlessly. He suppose it worked, for the misery that had been crawling through him was gone. He was met with a blinding smile, and whatever self pity Antonio had was gone.

"Jesus, Tony, is it so easy to make you feel better?"

"It's hard to stay unhappy when someone likes you."

"You have plenty of people who like you. You're friends with almost everyone."

"But I want you to like me."

"...You're such a sap."

It was so relieving to hear Antonio's laugh. Even if his moment of gloom was short and gone within a blink of an eye, Antonio displaying such negative emotions were against the laws of nature. When he was his usual relaxed, lighthearted self, Romano himself was in a better mood than usual. Antonio's cheerfulness was very contagious.

"Hey, you know what." Romano's attention piqued when Antonio pulled a battered plastic bag from his pocket. "Let's go trick or treating."

"What? Aren't we too old for that? Why do you have a random bag in your pocket?"

"Frankie wanted me to toss it when I found him out front earlier. I forgot I even had it in my pocket when we found Gilbert. And it's never too old for trick or treating. Come on, it's _free_ _candy_."

"But we're not kids anymore! It's so stupid! How old are you exactly?"

"_Pleeaase!_" Romano groaned and slumped his head back in exasperation as Antonio shook him and started a mantra of "_pleasepleasepleaseplease_."

For the sake of his sanity, he agreed. "_Fine._ But only _one_ block. I don't want to spend the whole night running around and begging strangers for free candy." He was abruptly pulled into a lung-crushing hug, and he pushed the other off in a huff. He was flattered, but he wasn't about to tell him that.

(One block turned into two into five, and by eleven o'clock they returned to the party with two bags full of candy. Half their candy came from desperate homeowners who wanted their candy gone, and their extra plastic bag they managed to get off of a nice older woman. During those couple hours or so of trick or treating, Romano learned that Antonio and Belle had dated for almost a year when they were in high school. That perhaps explained everything.)


End file.
